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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340694">Nepenthes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuuya/pseuds/sakuuya'>sakuuya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Horrible LITA Fics You Shouldn't Read [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Battle for London in the Air (Roleplay)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Ending, Consensual Mind Control, Dark, Darkdarkdarkdarkdark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Dom/sub, I'm so sorry Oscar, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Self-Loathing, The least-canon thing I've ever written, Unhealthy Relationships, cyborg zombies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:33:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuuya/pseuds/sakuuya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar goes to Dr. Jhandir looking for revenge but finds something else entirely.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dr. Anil Jhandir/Oscar Sherry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Horrible LITA Fics You Shouldn't Read [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2262425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nepenthes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing on the front step of Dr. Jhandir’s new house on Epsilon, Oscar wasn’t sure whether to knock or kick in the door. Or maybe he should just leave. What he <em> shouldn’t </em> do was loiter here until one of the doctor’s posh neighbors called the police on him. With that thought, he settled for knocking. If Dr. Jhandir chose not to open the door, then Oscar would see about doing things the hard way.</p><p>As satisfying as it would have been to break down the doctor’s door or crash through one of his windows, Oscar was denied that particular bit of vengeance when the door opened a titch, stopped by the chain. Dr. Jhandir peered up at him through the crack.</p><p>“Oscar? What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I just want to talk to you,” Oscar lied. “About—” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, but he had to assume that Dr. Jhandir knew what he meant.</p><p>Dr. Jhandir shut the door wordlessly. Before Oscar could get in position to break it down, it opened again, wide enough for Oscar to slip inside. Dr. Jhandir didn’t seem pleased to have Oscar there, and he didn’t lead Oscar any farther than the unfurnished foyer.</p><p>“What is it? Did someone find a way to re-engage Lady Sterling’s control mechanism?” If Oscar didn’t know better, he might have thought that Dr. Jhandir was concerned for his well-being. His hand went automatically to the pistol in the pocket of his coat.</p><p>“You destroyed it, didn’t you?” was all he said.</p><p>“I thought so, but I’m no engineer. For all I know, the damage I did can be reversed. <em> What happened?</em>”</p><p>“Nothing, nothing. I don’t think anyone turned her machine back on.”</p><p>“Then why are you here?”</p><p>Dr. Jhandir stepped forward like he was going to usher Oscar out of his house; Oscar’s grip on the pistol tightened. The doctor was small and slight, almost harmless-looking, but Oscar had dwelt too long on what he’d done to be fooled.</p><p>“I killed Lady Sterling because of you!” Oscar said, louder than he meant to. Despite the fact that he had come here, that he was the one with a gun in his pocket, he felt the situation slipping away from him in his anguish. </p><p>“Of course you didn’t kill her,” Dr. Jhandir replied, like it was the most obvious fact in the world. </p><p>“I was standing over her body holding a bloody knife!”</p><p>Dr. Jhandir shot him a look, somewhere between pity and contempt. “Would you blame the knife? Of course not. It’s a piece of metal, with no will of its own. Similarly, you were simply an instrument of my will. You have no more reason to feel guilty than a knife does.”</p><p>The doctor’s tone was so calm, and his expression so self-satisfied, that Oscar tugged the gun out of his pocket by reflex. The look of fear that replaced Dr. Jhandir’s smugness was gratifying to behold, even if it did nothing to fill the hollow in Oscar’s chest.</p><p>“You made me a killer!”</p><p>“I used you to kill. That’s a very different thing.” Dr. Jhandir still sounded sure of himself, but Oscar could see him shaking—or maybe Oscar was the one shaking, the pistol rattling in his hand. “If you shot me, you’d be a murderer, and it would be no one’s fault but your own. But Lady Sterling’s death wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill her.”</p><p>The gun fell from Oscar’s hand, and he followed close behind, crashing to his knees. His eyes stung dryly, but no tears fell. He wasn’t capable of it any more. </p><p>“You didn’t attack Curtis or Cordelia either.” Dr. Jhandir’s voice got closer, and Oscar distantly registered the sound of the gun being kicked away, but he didn’t look up from the floor. “You don’t have to take responsibility for any of this. Sterling wanted to use you to hurt your friends, but she’s dead now, and it’s not your fault.”</p><p>Cordelia and Rebecca had both tried to tell him as much, immediately after the fact. It had seemed like a reassuring lie, coming out of their mouths. With Dr. Jhandir, it felt like a seismic shift, the ground giving way under the force of the truth. The doctor had no reason to offer comfort—Oscar doubted he was even capable of it.</p><p>Dr. Jhandir was right in front of him now. Oscar was content to focus on the doctor’s velvet house shoes while he waited for the crushing gravity to abate, but Dr. Jhandir took his chin in one soft hand and gently tilted it upward. Those dark eyes had a gravity of their own; Oscar couldn’t look away.</p><p>“The cruelest thing Lady Sterling did to you was give you your mind back so you thought you were a person again. Mechanicals were always meant to be tools, nothing more, and her mind-control machine proves it. I wonder if she gave you back your sentience on purpose, just so she could enjoy taking it away?”</p><p>Oscar tried to protest, but all that came out was a strangled sob. Dr. Jhandir’s calm gaze was so different from the way Rebecca had looked at him after he killed Lady Sterling; her expression of horror was seared into his brain like it had been physically branded there. If he had come back to life as a mindless object, he never would have hurt her like that.</p><p>“Wouldn’t it be better,” Dr. Jhandir continued, his voice gentle, almost a croon, “if you were just the machine you were meant to be? If you never had to feel this guilt?”</p><p>“Yes,” Oscar choked out, finally able to turn his head away. Dr. Jhandir let him go, fingers trailing across his cheek.</p><p>“Get up.”</p><p>Oscar stood, and even obeying that simple order was a relief from his torment. He settled with his feet apart and hands clasped behind his back.</p><p>“Did you bring any other weapons?”</p><p>“No.” Oscar kept his eyes trained on the doctor, not even looking around for his discarded gun.</p><p>“Follow me, then.” Dr. Jhandir turned abruptly and strode upstairs, not checking to see whether Oscar was behind him. A strange thrill ran though Oscar when Dr. Jhandir led him into the master bedroom—the only room Oscar had seen so far that was mostly furnished—but Dr. Jhandir just knelt down and retrieved a large envelope from under the bed.</p><p>The next room Oscar was led to featured nothing but a large desk and a single wooden chair. Dr. Jhandir didn’t sit down as he started spreading papers out on the desk, but nor did he offer the seat to Oscar, so the taller man went back to standing easy.</p><p>“This is all the information I have on reanimated mechanicals and how to control them. All the information that <em> exists</em>, since I killed Sterling.” Dr. Jhandir smiled up at Oscar, eyes alight with a keen interest that Oscar knew should be horrifying. “Do remember that’s <em> I</em>, not you. Unfortunately, as I said, I’m no engineer. There’s no chance I’d be able to recreate the full control mechanism—unless I enlisted some help, I suppose.”</p><p>“No!” Oscar burst out without thinking. It was one thing to be having this discussion here, with someone who was in no position to pass judgement on him. But the thought of letting someone else see his debasement—and worse, how eager he was for it—was unconscionable. And what if word somehow got back to Rebecca? The last thing Oscar wanted to do was hurt her.</p><p>“Yes, I thought not.” Dr. Jhandir’s gaze raked over the desktop. Oscar couldn’t guess what he was looking for. Despite the doctor’s protests about his lack of engineering expertise, he was obviously on better footing with this stuff than Oscar was. “Perhaps if I could access your ‘heart,’ I could make the necessary changes without involving an engineer.”</p><p>The idea of letting Dr. Jhandir cut him open was equal parts disgusting and enticing. Even if the doctor couldn’t figure out how to operate his heart, Oscar could think of few more complete ways to abdicate responsibility for himself. Putting his life in Dr. Jhandir’s hands probably wasn’t wise, but then, he hadn’t made a wise choice since coming back to life. Better to stop making them altogether.</p><p>Without conscious thought, Oscar started unbuttoning his jacket. Dr. Jhandir looked as taken aback as if Oscar had stripped naked in front of him.</p><p>“Not <em> now! </em> I’ll need at least a day to prepare. For the moment, why don’t you go stand in the foyer? You’re a bodyguard, so that should be old hat for you—a perfect way to show that you’re taking this seriously. Don’t let any strangers in the house. There may still be loyalists to the old regime lurking about.”</p><p>Oscar hadn’t heard about anything like that, but then, he’d been avoiding his old rebellion friends. It still seemed more likely that the doctor was being paranoid. Still, he nodded and went back downstairs to the foyer without protest.</p><p>As he took up position facing the door, he tried to think of himself as a suit of armor standing in a castle hallway, just hollow metal. Physically, it was easy. He didn’t get tired or hungry or thirsty or sore, and there was something peaceful about standing still and watching through Dr. Jhandir’s transom as darkness slowly gave way to dawn.</p><p>Oscar had trouble, however, keeping his mind on his duty. His shame at hurting his friends, at killing Lady Sterling, crowded in at the borders of his thoughts. Even the memories were making it more difficult for him to do his job.</p><p>Bright light was streaming through the transom when Oscar was startled by the buzz of the doorbell. He was tall enough that he could have gotten on his tiptoes and looked down through the window, but he got a better angle by bending down to peer through the peephole.</p><p>“Good afternoon, Celine,” he said as he opened the door for her. He tried to keep his face neutral, in the hope that she wouldn’t remark on his presence. She was carrying a large parcel, but from the shape, it was probably a painting, not a weapon.</p><p>“Oscar? What are you doing here?” <em> Damn his luck! </em> “No one’s seen you since—”</p><p>“Dr. Jhandir’s upstairs in his study,” Oscar interrupted. “Should I tell him you’re here?”</p><p>“Nah, I sent a card, so he should be expecting me.” Celine said. She walked past him to the stairs, staring openly the whole time. He could feel her curious gaze on the back of his head even as she went up to find the doctor.</p><p>With Celine upstairs, Oscar found it tougher than ever to be the stoic, impassive guard he was supposed to be. He’d hoped (foolishly, in retrospect) that no one else would find out that he was here. Dr. Jhandir was a secretive bastard, but who knew who Celine might tell? Cordelia? <em> Rebecca? </em> Oscar just had to hope that the doctor was impressing on her the value of discretion.</p><p>She and Dr. Jhandir came downstairs after a while. It sounded like he was showing her the house, although from what Oscar had seen, it was still mostly empty. Neither of them acknowledged Oscar as they passed him, as though he really was an inanimate object. If he wasn’t standing easy, he would have slumped in relief. The same scene played out when Celine took her leave.</p><p>Before Dr. Jhandir could go back upstairs, Oscar asked, “What did you say to her? About me?”</p><p>“I simply explained your situation. She asked if she could be present for the surgery, but I said no. I believe it’s going to be very delicate, and I don’t want any distractions.”</p><p>“But she’ll be discreet, yeah?”</p><p>Dr. Jhandir’s half-smile was oddly sinister as he replied, “Certainly. Celine is more than capable of keeping a secret.” Then: “You’ve been doing well so far. Stay here, and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to have a look at your ‘heart.’”</p><p>“Thank you.” Oscar resumed his position as Dr. Jhandir disappeared up the stairs again.</p><p>The welcome monotony of Oscar’s guard duty was interrupted again, long after dark, this time by someone pounding at the door. When he looked through the peephole, he couldn’t see a thing, although the little incandescent on the porch should have been on. In all likelihood, it was just another rebellion colleague with terrible timing, but the broken light was suspicious.</p><p>Dr. Jhandir hadn’t given him a weapon (and he had no idea where his pistol had ended up) but it was unlikely that anyone who’d come here looking to hurt Dr. Jhandir would be prepared for <em> him</em>. He opened the door as much as he could without removing the chain. A pale hand tried to push it further, to no avail.</p><p>That hand belonged to a blonde man (or perhaps a mannish woman?), nearly as tall as Oscar was. They were pushed out of the way by a shorter, burlier man with a hell of a beard. “Who’re you?” the shorter man asked.</p><p>“Who’re <em> you </em>, showing up here in the middle of the night?”</p><p>“We’re looking for Dr. Jhandir. We’re, hmm, in need of his medical expertise. Will you fetch him for us?”</p><p>All of Oscar’s instincts were screaming at him that these two were bad news. Thank goodness Dr. Jhandir had instructed him to keep out strangers; he would have had difficulty following an order to the contrary.</p><p>“The doctor isn’t available right now. I suggest you make an appointment to see him during daylight hours. Good evening.”</p><p>As he went to close the door, he felt the <em> thunk </em> of something hitting him in the shoulder. He looked down and saw the handle of a throwing knife sticking out of him—and the taller thug was holding another one. Oscar sighed and pulled it out, pointing it down at the shorter thug, who looked back up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.</p><p>“On second thought, don’t come back at all. Now leave before I call the constables.” Oscar didn’t shut the door in their faces. He waited until the two had fled back to the street, then shut it and went back to his vigil. He didn’t move another muscle until Dr. Jhandir came down to check on him in the morning.</p><p>“Good morning, Oscar.”</p><p>“Good morning, doctor. There was some trouble last night: A couple rough types came round in the middle of the night looking for you. One of them threw a knife at me before they ran off.”</p><p>“Who were they?”</p><p>“Don’t know. They didn’t seem eager to give their names. One was tall, skinny, good with a throwing knife. The other was short, dark, and bearded. He did most of the talking. Do they sound familiar?”</p><p>“No,” Dr. Jhandir said with a frown. “How troubling. But you did good work getting rid of them.”</p><p>“Does that mean you’ll look at my heart?”</p><p>“Tonight or tomorrow, perhaps. I still need time to prepare. But if you’re asking if you’ve proven yourself, yes. And I can stitch up your shoulder now if you’d like.”</p><p>Oscar stripped to the waist and submitted to Dr. Jhandir’s ministrations. The doctor didn’t use any anesthetic that Oscar noticed, but getting stitched up felt like nothing at all, just as the knife had felt like nothing. Dr. Jhandir might as well have been patching a rip in his jacket.</p><p>Once the hole in Oscar’s shoulder was fixed, Dr. Jhandir went upstairs again, leaving him to continue guarding the foyer. Oscar almost wished the thugs from the previous night would try again. Guarding was what he was good at, and Dr. Jhandir’s <em> you did good work </em> made him feel useful for the first time in a long while.</p><p>But the day was uneventful. Every time Dr. Jhandir passed by, Oscar had to suppress his dueling hopes that it was time for the surgery and that Dr. Jhandir would ignore him altogether, the way he ignored the end table the receiving tray sat on. Only the latter desire was gratified until the sun had almost set, when Dr. Jhandir led him deeper into the ground floor to a small surgery. The table there was outfitted with leather restraints.</p><p>“Take your shirt off and lay down, then we’ll get started,” Dr. Jhandir said. He’d put on a long leather apron over his suit but hadn’t bothered to change into a surgical gown.</p><p>Oscar eyed the restraints as he slipped out of his jacket and shirt. He could barely tolerate tight fabric around his wrists, and those straps looked much more confining—and, worse, like he couldn’t release them himself once he’d been strapped in. </p><p>His body was tensed to run, but where could he go? He couldn’t risk hurting Rebecca again, and he didn’t have any other purpose in this world. So he laid down on the table and let Dr. Jhandir tighten the straps around his wrists and ankles.</p><p>He gave the wrist straps an experimental tug, but they didn’t budge. Which he had expected, of course, but confirming it sent him into a panic. He thrashed and heaved against the unyielding restraints.</p><p>“<em> Oscar. </em>” The tone of Dr. Jhandir’s voice froze him in place, wrists still straining to escape. “Stop that at once. You didn’t move from the parlor for nearly 32 hours—you can stand to be restrained now. A tool doesn’t move from where its master places it.”</p><p>The doctor put a hand on Oscar's shoulder. Oscar relaxed into the touch, the words. Having straps tight around his wrists was more bearable when it was framed like that. This was just… just another way to show Dr. Jhandir that he could do what he was told. He could handle it. He <em> could </em>.</p><p>“That’s better. Now, in my experience, sedatives don’t do anything to reanimated mechanicals, but if anything I’m doing hurts, tell me and I’ll do my best to anesthetize you. Either way, the data will be <em> fascinating</em>.”</p><p>Oscar closed his eyes, but they shot open of their own accord when he felt the skin of his chest split open. It didn’t hurt, really; it just felt odd. The sensation was entirely inhuman, which made it easier to relax into. He wasn’t human. And Dr. Jhandir’s fierce concentration was probably no different than a mechanic or watchmaker’s when faced with a particularly complex repair.</p><p>His whole body spasmed when Dr. Jhandir first touched his heart, but even that felt more like a malfunction than a wound. It didn’t <em> hurt</em>. And when Dr. Jhandir was finished, when he affixed Oscar’s ribs back in place and sewed up the skin and muscle over them, Oscar didn’t feel any different.</p><p>“You can sit up. Everything should be secure.” Oscar sat up without thinking, and only then did he realize that his wrists and ankles were no longer restrained. He hadn’t noticed Dr. Jhandir unstrapping them.</p><p>“That’s it? Were you able to do it?”</p><p>“I believe so, yes. We won’t know for certain until we test you out, but I <em> am </em> very good at my job. Shall we?” Dr. Jhandir looked eager, even hungry to perform the test. Oscar wondered if he said no, if he tried to leave, would Dr. Jhandir let him? But the thought was a distant one. Relief from his guilt, from the terrible weight of responsibility, was in his grasp.</p><p>“What do you want me to do?” he asked, trying even now to tamp down his excitement in favor of professionalism.</p><p>“For now, just go back down to the foyer. If you do go berserk, all you’ll likely do is destroy that ghastly wallpaper. Otherwise, you’ll stand there, just as you’ve been doing. I assume that’s acceptable?”</p><p>“Please,” Oscar replied. Dr. Jhandir nodded, his expression almost demonic in its excitement, and Oscar went down to stand easy in the foyer once again.</p><p>He didn’t even notice when Dr. Jhandir did whatever needed to be done to take control of his heart. One moment the last rays of evening light were disappearing from the transom, and the next, the sun was shining through thin midmorning clouds.</p><p>Oscar’s eyes were dragged downward to Dr. Jhandir, who’d appeared in front of him with that same terribly intent look on his face. </p><p>“Good morning. What do you remember?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “It’s like I was asleep.”</p><p>“Then the test was a success!” the doctor crowed. “You’ve been here since last night. Earlier this morning I had you clap your hands and touch your nose, but otherwise, you’ve done nothing but stand here like an inanimate object. Marvellous!”</p><p>Oscar tried to remember clapping, but nothing came to mind. The morning, like the previous night, was a perfect blank. And <em> perfect </em> really was the proper word.</p><p>“You should have me do more this next time. If you hate the wallpaper in here, maybe I can strip it?”</p><p>“That would be a good test, yes. An excellent way to make yourself useful. You can mix up a bucket of water and vinegar in the kitchen for steaming.”</p><p>Oscar did as he was told, basking in the idea that he was being useful. The bucket was half-full of water when Oscar lost himself, and when he came to, all the foyer wallpaper had been removed.</p><p>“You did good work today,” Dr. Jhandir said as he inspected the walls. Oscar beamed.</p><p>They settled into a routine where Oscar spent most of his time under Dr. Jhandir’s control, doing chores if there were any to do and standing guard in the foyer otherwise. Dr. Jhandir freed him every day or so just to check that he was still functioning, but Oscar preferred to be an instrument of the doctor’s will. It was serene and simple just being a machine.</p><p>He did make one request, that Dr. Jhandir put him out of sight when other people were over. Oscar supposed that he wouldn’t know if the doctor kept that promise, but since Rebecca and Tristan never crashed through the door demanding that Dr. Jhandir unhand him, his current state was likely still a secret. All in all, he felt more peaceful than he had since waking up in Lady Sterling’s lab.</p><p>And when Oscar surfaced standing over another dead body, bloody knife in his hand and Dr. Jhandir watching raptly over his shoulder, he was at peace with that too.</p>
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